Enough
by Ms. Unlucky
Summary: 2.01 AU - In my time of dying - Dean does more than just break a glass.  I mean come on, who would leave it at just that?
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes ~** I realize I haven't updated anything since Spring Break, but in my defense, I did kinda warn that, that would happen. Updates will most likely resume during my Summer Vacation. ;D This is just a little something I've been writing since I first saw Season 2 Episode 1 'In my time of dying'. While watching I thought, 'Why didn't Dean try to move anything else?' Because I knew I would've. So hence, this was born. I don't know how long it'll be, I _do_ know it will be at least two chapters so... Enjoy? :D

**Warnings ~** I'm rating this 'M' just in case. Be prepared for anything, my fellow fic readers. o_o

**Summary ~** 2.01 AU - In my time of dying - Dean does more than just break a glass.

**P.S. ~** Um, this particular fic isn't Slash (At least I don't think so) But I am working on a Michael/Dean... :3 As ofknow it is my pride and joy because I'm hoping it will be my first _good_ one-shot. (And first good Smut and nothing but, kinda a PWP but with a bit more emotion. x3 )

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><p>They were arguing again. They're voices raised, practically yelling, and of all the places, of all the times. Dean could hardly believe his ears. Did they even care that he was lying helpless a few rooms down? That he may not ever wake up? That there was something in the hospital out to get him? That he was standing <em>right there!<em>

It frustrated him more than anything.

"You know what? You care more about killing this demon then you do your own son!"

'_C'mon guys, don't do this.' _Not now, not when he needed them to be strong. He was scarred. He was defenseless. He needed them.

"Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean!"

"How? How is revenge going to help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself! It's the same selfish obsession!"

'_Please don't do this!'_ he wasn't just defenseless and scarred… He was alone. He could see that now. Sammy and dad… they were too engulfed in their own arguments to even notice his presence. He knew they could if they only tried. _Please try harder! I can't handle this by myself!_

"Oh that's funny, I thought this was your obsession too. This demon, it killed your mother, it killed your girlfriend. You _begged_ me to be part of this hunt! Now if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!"

"It was _possessing _you, it would have killed you too!"

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now!"

'_Shut up, both of you! Stop it already!' _ He could have just left the room entirely, but he wanted the illusion of being near them; fill the empty void that seemed to be getting bigger and bigger by the second. His fear and panic was growing steadily along with their voices, he just wanted it to stop. For _them_ to stop.

"Go to Hell…"

"You know what, I should have never have taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!"

That was it, he had, had it with the both of them, he had it with the fear, the panic, the emptiness. The hole in his gut quickly filled with rage. Among his mixed emotions he felt tiredness as well power; a strange combination, but Dean didn't even give it a second thought. His body was nothing but action, his mind focused on furry.

Sweeping his arm across the hospital tray, Dean flung a glass of water toward the adjacent wall. It shattered loudly, startling the yelling men, causing them to look where the broken glass fell and where a puddle quickly formed.

The sight might have been comical (Sam and John's mouths hanging open, shock plastered on their faces) if Dean didn't know he was wearing the same expression.

A witty comment came to mind, but he was too distracted to even care at the moment.

He had just moved something.

If he could do it again, maybe he could get the message through to the two bickering half-wits that he was there, that he was listening; that he needed their help.

As his father and younger brother eyed each other in both startled curiosity and shock, Dean set to work to find something else to move.

_A pen_.

Dad must have been writing earlier, a pen rested on his bed side table.

Maybe he could… pick it up?

Reaching out for it, he was disappointed to find it slipped right _through _his fingers. Again, he felt a rush of emotions run wild through him:

He was disappointed that even after _just_ finding a way to get a message to his dad and brother, the chance had slipped away.

He was scarred because it meant he was still very _alone_ with whatever was killing people in the hospital.

He was furious at the hopelessness of the situation.

And the emptiness had returned, along with the fatigue.

…But then, so did the feeling of power. Pure, humming _something_ just vibrating beneath his skin.

He looked over at his brother, who was fixing to leave while giving his father a cold glare, the former returning it without a second thought.

_What? A glass goes flying and no one even _comments_ on the strangeness of it? Not even a sliver of hope it could be me?_

The anger out ways everything now and the power skyrockets; curious and tempted, Dean out paces his brother to the door. Grabbing the knob, he uses all he's got to slam the thing shut.

And to his surprise, it actually works. He looks up at his brother and father expectantly. If they don't take the hint now, then they obviously have worse head trauma then what he was first led to believe.

To his relief, they get the point.

"Dad…" Sam mumbles, looking toward his father as if he had all the answers. He usually did, but not this time. "D- Dean! Dean, is that you?" Sam frantically looks around the room, as if the door shutting suddenly meant he could make a physical appearance.

Sadly he couldn't, and Dean didn't want to waste any of the power he felt at the moment on something so futile.

It's his dad who speaks next, gruff and somewhat stupefied. "Dean, son, if you can hear me… Can you make a sign? Tell us that you're here?"

At the words, Dean is over joy. He's not entirely sure what it is, seeing as Sammy had just done the same thing, but his father recognizing his presence, even if it was too blunt to be ignored, was comforting.

_I'm not alone…_

The joyful, bubbly feeling soon turns to even _more_ power, it's like emotion is a ghosts steroid. Looking around the room frantically, Dean searched for another way to reach out to what little family he had left.

He looked at the pen incredulously. It hadn't worked the first time he tried, but he _did_ just kind of move a door. Which seemed to be a lot more work than picking up a pen, so he tried.

It didn't work again.

Brow furrowed, he looked at Sam and dad's faces to see them begin to lose hope. He had to act fast! _Please, please work!_

Giving up on lifting the pen, Dean gave it the same treatment he had the glass cup: flinging it across the room.

Sam flinched this time, the pen had almost hit him, though had missed by an inch or two and instead slammed against the window near the door, dropping to the floor, loud in the dead silent room.

Sam's face broke out into a sad smile, his gaze shifting across the room; unsure as to where his brother was exactly.

"Dean…" his father was still staring at the pen, his eyes glazed over, a small smile threatening to show. He had barely muttered Dean's name, he had hardly caught his father saying anything at all.

But that was okay, because now he knew he wasn't alone. Whether they could see him or not, they knew he was there, they knew to not stop trying, and for now, that could be enough, this could be okay. Because amongst the bitterness, the sadness, the anger that threatened to eat him whole, the loneliness had dissipated. It was gone. He felt whole again.

And that would be enough.

That would be okay.

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><p>Review? It may or may not move things along. Truthfully, my muse is all over the place, so ya never know. XD<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Stuff ~** Okay, so here's the second chapter! ;D I might make a third chapter, so I wont be marking this story as complete yet but... I probably wont focus on John making a deal, infact I might just cut that part out or something. Idk, I just don't feel like writing about that. XD

**Important ~** I've been on an Evil!Sam/Fluff binge recently, and was wondering if you guys could help me out. (Note: I do not mind self-pimping.)

How You Can Help: It's simple really, just give me links to stories you read (Have written) and thought were pretty good that have the following:

1) Non-con (I only like Bottom!Dean... No Bottom!Sam or Bottom!Castiel or whatever!) But I like Non-con with fluff... Like, Dean doesn't want it but Sam isn't entirely mean about it, he just takes what he wants from his brother without hurting _too_, too badly. XD

2) Evil!Sam. I like Sam as a Demon, Vampire, whatever. Just as long as he wants Dean-o, we're good. ^.~

3) Lots-o-fluff~! Again, only Bottom!Dean. (Threesome or foursomes are okay, I really don't care who Dean is with just as long as he's bottom.)

4) Hurt!Dean/Dean whump (Doesn't /have/ to be a slash fic, but there does have to be man-bonding and fluff. XD Angst is good too... ;D )

5) Mpreg (I'll only read it if it's Dean that's preggers.)

So... You scratch my back and then maybe one day i'll be able to scratch yours? o.O You can give me the links via review or PM, I don't really care either way.

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><p>Despite the emotional bull crap they had gone through nearly hours ago, Dean found himself having a hard time stifling a laugh. Sam had <em>not <em>just brought in what he thought he brought in.

A Quija board. _(AN: Wee - gie)_

'_I feel like I'm at a slumber party.'_ His sarcasm fell onto deaf ears; however, as his brother continued to set up the board on the table he had earlier knocked a glass cup off of next to dad's hospital bed. Both Dean and John were looking at the youngest Winchester incredulously. Dean was sure his father wouldn't even bother; there was no way the thing would work. …No matter how much he _might_ want it to.

Pulling up a chair next to his father's bed, Sam placed his finders on the planchette almost gently, like he was scared he'd break it. He gave his dad a meaningful look, and to Dean's surprise, dad returned it. Maybe he wanted it to work just as badly as he did.

"Uh," Sam said intelligently. "Dean? Are you here?"

Walking over toward his father and Sam, he stood between them staring down at the board skeptically. This _so_ wasn't going to work.

Never the less, he found his hands moving toward the small wooden game piece. Firmly placing his hands on the planchette, he concentrated as he attempted to move it towards the 'yes' in the left hand corner of the board.

'_It moved!_' Dean gasped in excitement. For a moment he felt a little stupid, but after considering his situation, he got over those feelings rather quickly.

He could feel his happiness and joy and excitement turn into that raw, humming power again. The emptiness was only slightly sated, it sucked up those feelings like a black hole in his stomach, but for the moment it was fine, perfect even.

Well, as perfect as things could get in this situation.

Looking over at his dad, he wasn't too surprised to see him just as happy as he and Sam. (Who was always an emotional kinda guy, so his excitement was to be expected.)

Sam took a moment to compose himself, Dean wished he could be there at that moment, if not to just pick on his little brother for being such a girl all the time.

"A-are you alright?" asked Sam. Dean just stared at him for a moment. What kind of question was _that?_ He was a disembodied ghost for Christ's sake. _No_ he was not 'alright'!

He moved the Planchette over to the correct response, wishing Sam could _feel_ the sarcasm in the answer.

"Oh… Right. Kind of a stupid question I guess."

'_Ya think, Einstein?'_

"Dean," it was dad speaking now. "Are you able to get back to your body?"

Dad sounded unsure, which was _anything_ but comforting in this kind of situation. Dad almost _always_ knew what to do. But, even in the crazy life and times of the Winchester's, Dean supposed that talking to a ghost you weren't hunting, and still had a body they needed to return to, was a whole new can of sardines. In this subject, dad was a fish out of water.

_Just peachy._

Suddenly Dean didn't feel so happy and _powerful_ anymore. He felt like a blanket of doubt and worry was placed around him; in the end it spurred anger. It was a whole new round of that intoxicating Ghost Steroid, but this time, instead of feeling the powerful hum of _something_ running through his body, he began to feel weak, like he could just blow away in a breeze.

A sharp, white-hot _feeling_ shot through his chest. At first he thought it was pain, but as he fell to his knee's, choking in oxygen he wasn't really breathing, Dean realized it was the black hole in his stomach. It was pulling on him, it was like he was caving in on himself. It hurt and yet he was completely numb.

He looked up at John and Sam, eyes wide in confusion and fear, and he saw his dad's lips moving, like he was speaking again, but this time… Dean couldn't hear him. All around him things had gone silent. He couldn't hear the people walking by the room, he couldn't hear Sam who was speaking; looking around in the room in confusion. Dean barely realized in his near panic state that neither of them knew what was happening, and that they were still trying to use the Quija board.

Crumpling to the floor, Dean tried his damnedest to hear something, _anything_, and then it happened. It started out low, like a whisper, but as it gradually grew louder it was like a blow horn right next to his ear.

Beeping.

At first it was sporadic, and then it turned into a steady, long beep. It was high pitched, a bit annoying, and suddenly Dean under stood what it was.

A heart monitor.

Dragging himself up, Dean ran out of his father's hospital room, down the hallway, just a few doors down, until he reached his own room. When he had left it, not a single person had even been _near_ his room, but now… It was complete chaos. Doctors and nurses were scrambling all over the place. He couldn't hear them, but it looked like they were all calling off orders, desperately trying to save his life.

They were using a defibrillator.

His heart had stopped beating, and yet, that wasn't the most shocking thing Dean saw in his hospital room.

There, floating just above his body was a… Ghost? Dean wasn't entirely sure what it was, but the sickly white and transparent _monster_ was somehow the cause of Dean's sudden turn for the worst. But… What could he do, he was just ghost himself?

Suddenly Sam was at the door way, apparently he had picked up on all the commotion too. It looked like he was biting back tears, and that really wasn't helping Dean at all. If Sam was just gonna stand there and give up, then… _No, no, no, no! I'm not giving up! I'm not ready to die yet!_

'_HEY! Get the hell away from me!'_

The thing didn't listen, it just stared down at his body, and Dean continued to die.

Stepping forward with unsure steps, Dean prepared himself to fend off whatever it was that was killing him.

'_I SAID GET BACK!'_

He grabbed onto what looked like an arm and tried to pry it away from his hospital bed. It threw him across the room perhaps too easily, and stared at him with cold, dead pits for eyes. Dean was sure it was going to kill him now, and spared one last look at his kid brother, who still looked ready to cry.

But then the thing just… flew off. Dean's heart started to beat again and it just… _disappeared_.

Looking over at Sam, he could see his brothers face lined with worry. His heart was beating again, but Dean was still in danger, whether Sam knew it because of the damage done to his body or this… _thing_ that was after him, it didn't matter.

'_It's alright Sammy. I'll find and stop whatever this thing is,'_ said Dean, wishing that his brother could hear his reassuring words. _'If I can touch it, I can kill it.'_

And he'd do just that. He wasn't dying: he wasn't ready to die and _Sam_ sure as Hell wasn't ready to lose him either. He would stay as long as his baby brother needed him, because he knew Sam would do the same for him.

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><p>TADA~! The end... Until next chapter... maybe? XD<p> 


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